Skyheart
by King Doge
Summary: When an evil attacks Redwall, it is up to Cedar Skyheart to save everybeast. But Cedar is no warrior, he is a quaint country farmer. That's why he must quest to Salamandastron, to unlock the warrior within his heart, before it's too late.
1. Chapter 1

Mossflower Country was trapped in a harsh midwinter storm. The ground was covered in a thick blanket of snow. A female badger was walking in it, waist-deep. She shielded her eyes against the blizzard, but it couldn't help her see any better. In this weather one could not tell if she were in the western mountains or in Mossflowerwood.

The badger, Delphene, was in fact in Redwall. She was looking for somebeast.

"Aaachoo!"

Even though the wind was whistling in her old ears, Delphene was able to pick up on the noise and followed the direction it came from. Sure enough, it led her to a upturned log boat, almost completely buried in the snow. From beneath it the sound of chattering teeth could be heard.

Delphene upturned the boat to find none other than Tallo, the missing otter pup. He looked up at her apologetically from the little snow ditch he was laying in. She promptly took off her own cloak and wrapped the little one in it. She then lifted him up and started back to Cavern Hole, wind tearing at her exposed grey fur.

"I'm sorry!" Tallo had to yell above the wind. He felt that the badger was very disappointed and he just had to say something.

"Young Tallo," Delphene said sternly, trying to be heard above the wind without seeming like she was yelling at the pup. "Thank the lucky stars you are not a frozen pupsickle by now-"

"But I am a pupsickle!" Tallo interrupted. "Look how cold I am!"

The badger looked down at the bundle otter, who only had his little black nose sticking out of the cloak. Her words sounded serious but she was actually smiling at the cute pup. "Do not interrupt your elders, that is very impolite. We will finish this conversation once we are inside."

Despite the horrible weather, the creatures of Redwall were making the best of it in Cavern Hole. The great surplus of food from the fall harvest came in handy today. Chef Henry was able to whip up something of a small feast.

He got many praises for the delicious selection of pastries laying out on the tables. There were plenty of flakey crusted cherry and cream cheese danishes, warm apple crumb cakes, and fragrant pumpkin spice cookies. Back in the kitchen, a giant cauldron of thick, hearty vegetable stew was kept warm on the stove fire. Anybeast could go back and get a bowlful whenever he or she pleased.

The atmosphere was rather quiet and subdued in Cavern Hole. Everybeast seemed to be just enjoying the food or engaging in low-toned conversations. Even the dibbuns were fairly silent. They would only whine every so often, "I'm bored," or "I want to play in the snow."

The answer was always something like, "no, you'll freeze to death" or, "go play with your little friends."

The only problem was the dibbuns had already played hide and seek, bored games, and other inside activities for the past two days. They have grown bored of indoor games and were ready to play outside in the snow.

Even the older folks of Redwall seemed to be lacking entertainment. After their stomach was full and a nap was taken, there wasn't much else to do besides lounge around or have a dull conversation. Truely, each of the elder best secretly wished they could go outside and do something, much like the dibbuns.

Heads turned as Delphene entered Cavern Hole carrying a bundled cloak. Faces seemed to light up as a little otter pup head popped out of the folds of cloth.

"So you've found the little villain," Brother Sage, the recorder, said. His voice was scornful but also sounded relieved.

"Quite right," Delphene replied as she put Tallo down. "It seems he's only suffering from a runny nose. We should be thankful he wasn't frozen solid, the little vermin."

Looking at the ashamed otterpup, Brother Sage said, "Young Tallo, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Tallo still had Delphene's cloak around his shoulders, which was so big on him it looked like he was wearing a bedsheet. The little one was looking down at the floor. He toed the ground awkwardly and said, "I'm sorry."

"You best be," said Brother Sage, looking at the pup from overtop his specks. "Delphene, what do you suppose we do with this one? He disobeyed Abbot Wilson's very word to not go outside."

"I suppose being trapped under that boat out in freezing weather was punishment enough," the badger said, giving Tallo a rather kindly look. "Little one, we only tell you not to do things for your own safety. Listen to your elders from now on."

Tallo only nodded.

"Delphene is right," Sage added. "You could have gotten very sick out in that storm. Now, run along with the other dibbuns."

The badger knelt down in front of Tallo. "Your friends are all gathered on the rug in front of the fireplace. I hear Abbot Wilson has a surprise for you all."

The little otter smiled excitedly and ran over to the old, red-colored rug with Delphene's cloak dragging behind him like a long cape. The fireplace was burning bright and warm, casting its amber glow on the Abby babies gathered around it. There was a plushy armchair set beside the rug, undoubtedly for the Abbot to sit in.

And there he came, the ancient mouse Abbot, with a rather large book in his thin arms. He was hobbling trying to carry the heavy volume, his frail form being relieved of the burden as Brother Sage grabbed the book from him.

"Father Abbot," Sage said. "Forgive me for saying this, but you are no spring chick anymore. Please do ask for help when you need it."

"Oh phooey!" was the reply as the Abbot got settled down in his armchair. "Though I am a dibbun at heart, I do not need to be treated like one! Now Sege, would you please scooch that table in front of me, it's rather hefty. And set the book on top, would you? That a mouse! Now, how about fetching me some October ale and a few of those wonderful smelling cookies?"

Brother Sage rolled his eyes and the Abbot chuckled.

On of the dibbuns, a molebabe, piped up, "Burr, zurr h'abbot, moi mutter told oi you'm had a sorprois for us'ns."

"That's quite right, young fella," Abbot Wilson said, then took a drought of October Ale.

"What is it, Father Abbot," Tallo shouted excitedly.

Abbot Wilson didn't answer. He just took a bite of a pumpkin spice cookie, chewing thoughtfully.

"What is it!" the dibbuns yelled in unison. "What is it! What is it!"

Delphene chuckled. "Dear Abbot, you'd best stop teasing those dibbuns before they start running amuck. They've been traped in Cavern Hole for two days now, this blasted storm!"

"Not just the dibbuns," Brother Sage chimed in. "All is old ones are sick of being cooped up too."

A few murmurs of agreement circled around the room.

"Well don't fret," the Abbot's creaky voice rang out, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I have just the thing to entertain both young and old alike." He opened the book to the first page. "You've all heard the story of Lord Brocktree, the defeat of Razzid Wearat, and everything in between. But few of you heard the most recent tale of Redwall history. I have just finished taking the diary entries of a past Redwall recorder named Dawmund and converted it into a more digestible form."

The dibbuns stared at the Abbot with interest glowing in their eyes. The older ones listed intently.

"This tale takes place many hundreds of seasons after the attack of Razzid Wearat. A peaceful span of time when us Woodlanders least expected tragedy to strike. This is the story of why Martin's sword no longer hangs above the tapestry, of what it truly means to be a warrior, and why we should never underestimate the power of evil. This is the story of Cedar Skyheart…"


	2. Chapter 2

_Part 1: Turn of the Twin_

It was the start of a gorgeous midsummer's morning. The sun sat just on the horizon, tinting the sky a soft pink. Redwall sat against the sky like a rose. There was still a coolness in the air left over from night, but the cloudless, clear sky foretold of a hot day ahead that was sure to dry up the dew from the grass.

A young otter named Jorin stood on the south wall overlooking the hustle and bustle unfold below. The creatures of Redwall were preparing for an epic summer's feast. In the courtyard, mice were setting up tables and chairs, otters fished in the abbey pond for freshwater shrimp, and even though Jorin couldn't see, he was sure the kitchens were in culinary chaos.

Jorin turned his head back to the southern path outside the abbey. He was hoping Cedar and Juniper would show up to this feast. Sure enough, after awhile two large, striped creatures appeared on the dirt road, heading right toward Redwall.

The otter just couldn't wait to see his dibbunhood friends. He rushed down the flight of steps and darted down the dirt path right to the creatures.

They were badgers, twins in fact. Though they didn't look very much alike. Cedar, for one, was tall, very muscular and fit looking. Juniper on the other hand, was shorter and had more fat than muscle. And, even though they were both still adolescents, Juniper had a short beard already, which was always unkempt.

"Good… t'see you… mates," Jorin panted out.

Cedar laughed. "You couldn't have waited till we got to the abbey."

Juniper elbowed his brother roughly. "Shut it jarhead, he probably wanted to walk back to Redwall with us. You know, to catch up."

"Oh."

After Jorin caught his breath, joined the conversation. "Yes exactly. I haven't seen the both of you in the better part of two seasons. Juniper even has a beard now! What's the deal with that, mates?"

The twins looked rather apologetically at the otter. Cedar spoke up. "Ma and pa are old and getting rheumy."

"So," Juniper added, "they've been unable to make this trip to Redwall."

"And," Cedar continued, "they've needed more help than ever with the farm these past two seasons."

"But now that the plowing and seed sowing is done, you know the hardest work, we are finally able to travel here ourselves," Juniper finished.

Jorin looked a bit crestfallen. "So I guess you two won't be coming here as often."

"No," Cedar said. "Quite the opposite, really."

Upon seeing the confusion on the otters face, Juniper elaborated. "You see, it's well known that two grown male badgers can't get along. I'm surprised pa hasn't broken a chair over our heads yet-"

"Or vice versa," Cedar cut in.

"Yeah," Juniper continued. "Ma keeps the peace between us though. Nobody crosses her, she'd throw any of us off a mountain. Anyhow, ma and pa say we're full grown badger males now and it's high time we make our own living."

"They strictly said not to come back unless we have grandbabies for them," Cedar added. "Though we're going back at the end of summer anyway to check on them and help with the harvest."

"Hold up mates," Jorin said. "If grown male badgers can't live together, why are you two not spit up?"

The twins looked at each other and shrugged.

"So anyway, how's life been going for you," Juniper asked the otter.

"I wish I could say everything was perfect, but that's not exactly so," Jorin said, rubbing a paw through his headfur.

"What's on your mind, ottermate?" Cedar asked.

"You both know my uncle is the Skipper of otters," Jorin explained. "The thing is, he doesn't have any children of his own and he wants the position of Skipper to stay in our family bloodline."

"Ah, so he wants you to take up the Skipper title?" Juniper cut in.

"Exactly. The big problem is, uncle Rex doesn't think I'm cut out for the position. He's right. I've never left Redwall, the only boat I've ever been on is a small logboat in the abbey pond, I don't know how to fight. And," the otter said with emphasis, "to be honest I don't actually want to be Skipper."

"No surprise there, friend," Cedar said. "Ever since dibbunhood, I've always known you to be the type of otter to come and go as you please, with no duties to tie you down."

The three of them came by the abbey gates, an were greeted with cheerful smiles. Abbot Cecil, an ancient mouse, adjusted his spects with surprise.

"Goodness me! Could that be the two badgers I think they are?"

"Greetings Father Abbot," Juniper smiled. "Long time no see."

"Quite so," the Abbot replied. "Come with me, have some October Ale, we must catch up."

The Abbot led them to a nice shady tree, and handed out tankards of the famous ale. It had been chilled in the abbey pond, so the ale was ice-cold.

Juniper was partial to sweet things, so he put a dab of honey in his October Ale.

"Juniper, you damn heretic!" a gruff voice called out.

It was the voice of Duran, the cellar dog. He was a fat otter, nicely dressed. His beard had grown a few streaks of grey since the twins last saw him.

Cedar laughed and clasped the older otter on the shoulder. "Good to see you, old friend. As you can tell, Juniper still kept all his bad habits."

The Abbot laughed. He always found it humorous when the cellar dog got cross with Juniper. "Does he still like to mix strawberry fizz with raspberry cordial?"

Duran made a face of disgust.

"Hey," Jorin said. "It's actually pretty good. He gave me a tankard a few seasons back."

Juniper shrugged. "Dunno, haven't been here in awhile. I'll probably make some up for the feast."

The cellar dog's look of disgust worsened. "I out to ban you from touching my stock! It takes me all day, every day to make you all those drinks. And what do you do? You go on and mess up the age old recipes!"

Juniper handed Duran a tankard of October Ale. "Stop your nagging and have a drink with us."

The otter smiled. "Fine, you heretic, but just one. I got to prepare drink for the feast."

And so the friends sat under the shady tree while the feast was underway.


	3. Chapter 3

A cart was being pulled by six rats. This cart use to be something fit for royalty, but now it's rich red curtains were torn, the deeply polished wood was scratched up, and it's decorative carvings were chipped. However, this cart still housed royalty.

Jones Pullmus Culliver was his name. He was a young stoat. However, some believed he was actually a weasel, due to his size. Jones was actually only half the size of a full grown weasel. Very short and small boned. That coupled with his expensive looking emerald green and gold trimmed surcoat, he looked like a harmless dandelion. He looked nothing like the leader of the five-hundred hoard army, but he was.

At the moment, Lord Culliver was playing chess with his red fox seer, Jazben. The fox wore a grey hooded robe, a contrast compared to Jones's fancy dresswear.

"Check," the Lord said as he moved his knight piece in line with Jazben's king.

The fox hummed in frustration as he moved his king out of the knight's reach.

Sure enough, Culliver moved his bishop chess piece in line with the opponent's king.

"Check."

"Hmm." Jazban narrowed his eyes. It seemed like there was no more openings for his king to move. Everywhere he looked, he would be in check.

Suddenly, the cart jerked harshly and stopped, scattering chess pieces all over the floor.

The stoat stared at the ruined game, then said calmly, "oh bother, I was about to win."

There was an expected knock at the door. "Lord Culliver, 'tis I, Falhon."

"You may enter."

The door opened, revealing a huge, muscular ferret. He was heavily armored, topped with a helmet that had a spike at the top. He wore a red cape to show his status as head general.

"My Lord," he kneeled down. "There is a mutiny. I think they forgot who holds the authority. You must remind them, sir."

The stoat Lord sighed and walked out of his royal carriage. The six rats who towed it looked frantic when he walked by.

"I'm terribly sorry Lord," one of the rats piped up. "But it wasn't my fault! Look, the whole army has come to a stop."

"Silence!" Culliver shouted, and all six rats clamped their jaws shut. "What is the meaning of this halt?"

The army was made up of five hundred vermin. Most of them were rat spear soldiers, however there was good amount of weasel archers, skilled stoat swordsmen, and a few ferret captains.

They were normally organized in neat ranks of ten by ten, but now they were a mess of a cowed. Most of them looked scared and nervous, for they knew not to disobey their Lord. However, one could see that the cause of this mess was a small group of insubordinate rats.

One particularly huge brown rat stepped forth from the group and spoke up.

"The meaning of this halt? Well, Jones, me and my comrades have had enough of your nonsense. The hoard would benefit much better from my rule."

The brown rat's partners in crime chanted, "Garbul! Garbul! Garbul the Ripper!"

Jones held up a paw to silence Garbul's supporters, but to no avail. It was Garbul's raised paw that silenced them. Despite Jones being irked at the disloyalty, he spoke calmly.

"Sirrah Garbul, what is the meaning of this mutiny?"

"I'll tell you the meaning, Jones. We've been marching northward for two full seasons, just because your father was weak and you are a coward. We're tired of walking, marching forward with no destination in sight! Tell me, is that seer of yours blind? Jazban says he sees a castle full of riches for plundering, slaves for working, and enough food to feed an army thrice this size five times over. Yet, we march onward and see nothing but a clear, empty horizon!"

Lord Jones was pushed past his breaking point from the clear lack of disrespect and the lies about their situation this rat was telling. He bared his teeth and pointed a claw at the rat.

"Sirrah Garbul," Jones practically growled. "I have had it! You slander my family name. My father was not weak and I am no coward. Sirrah Garbul, you are sentenced to

death for spewing this rubbish from your lips and causing mutiny amongst the ranks. And I, Lord Jones Pullmus Culliver, will personally execute you in a duel."

"Bah! Enough of your blabbing," Garbul got in a battle ready stance, his spear pointed at Jones.

Lord Culliver held out his arms so that General Falhon could remove his decorative surcoat, revealing him to be wearing a chain mail vest. An assortment of small throwing daggers were at his belt. For the final touch, Falhon strapped two short swords at Jones's back.

Finally, Falhon held out a cloth and announced. "Lord Culliver seeks to execute Sirrah Garbul in a duel as punishment for his crimes. Sirrah Garbul challenges Lord Culliver for his title. At the drop of the cloth, the duel begins."

Both the Lord and insubordinate rat stood at the ready, both staring at each other with the flame of battle in their eyes.

When the cloth hit the grass, Garbul charged Jones with his spear. However, the stoat didn't move until his opponent's weapon was inches away from, then he leaped to the side.

Garbul was expecting this, so he swung his spear around to try to nick the stoat with the blade. With a flash of sparks, Jones intercepted the spear point by crossing his sword in an X.

When the rat withdrew his spear to try to thrust it towards the stoat, Culliver as quickly as lightning sheathed one of his swords and threw a dagger at Garbul's knee. Blood trickled down the rat's fur as he winced at the sharp pain.

Jones sheathed his second swords and stood with his arms crossed. He yawned. "Sirrah Garbul, you are boring me so. Please do make another move so I could end this."

Garbul gritted his teeth in anger and frustration. He jabbed his spear at Culliver's heart, but the nimble stoat hopped on top the blade with one foot. The he leaped into the air off the blade and unsheathed both his swords. On his fall down, he twisted in the air, slicing his swords right through the rat's throat. Jones landed gracefully on the ground.

Garbul looked Jones in the eye as he bled out. He tried to say something, but it came out as a strangled gurgling sound. Slowly, the rat fell to the ground as life drained out of him.

The other insubordinate rat shook in fear as they saw their leader slump over, dead.

"Kill the other criminals!" Lord Culliver ordered. Without hesitation, the Lord's obedient soldiers were on top of Garbul's followers, quickly putting and end to them.

The stoat lord climbed on top of his carriage. "Listen to me and listen to me well, my army. My father was no coward. His keep was under siege by an army from the fortress of Shudderstone! He fought to his last breath trying to defend House Culliver. I had no choice but to run. I am his only hair, the only one left to carry out our royal bloodline. What was I supposed to do? Try to take back my home from an army of thousands with only five-hundred soldiers? You all would have been slaughtered. I saved your lives, you should be grateful."

There was an uncomfortable silence amongst the troops. Some of the soldiers shuffled nervously, armor clanking a bit.

"I hope this clears up any misunderstandings," Lord Culliver continued. "General Falhon, please gather up the captains and get my army organized once more."

The stoat leaped down from the carriage, where Jazban was standing there waiting.

"My Lord, please come hither," the fox said. He led Lord Culliver over to Garbul's dead body. The grass was soaked in blood. "Look."

"Jazban, dear, tell me what I am supposed to be looking at," Culliver said. "I am not playing a guessing game with you today."

The fox pointed at the bloody grass. Lord Culliver looked closer. There was a chess piece, a rook, covered in blood.

"Ah, I see," the Lord said. "An omen. Does the rook represent House Culliver and is the blood that of my enemies?"

Jazban chuckled. "I believe it is meant to be a more literal omen, my Lord. The red stoned castle I see in my dreams, we are getting closer and closer. This is a sign."

"Ah," Lord Culliver clasped Jazban's paw. "Then we continue forward, my friend. Come, help me clean up after this fight then we shall talk more of this."

As the two walked back to the carriage, Lord Culliver shot one more glance towards the blood stained, castle-like chess piece.


	4. Chapter 4

After the friends have finished catching up and emptied the tankards of ale, they got back to work helping prepare for the feast. The badger twins took up the more heavy work, being the strongest creatures in Redwall. They helped carry barrels of the otter's shrimp back to the kitchen, they helped the mice set up the huge oaken tables in the courtyard, and (despite Duran complaining about a heretic touching his drinks) they helped hull barrels up from the cellar, setting them in the abbey pond to cool.

"Phew, it's getting hot out," Juniper said, as he filled another tankard of ale for a fourth helping that morning.

"Get your fat paws off my drink! You'll empty the cellars before the feast even starts," Duran scolded.

Juniper chuckled and took a draught of ale. "Who are you calling fat? You're quite a big pudding yourself."

Duran laughed and punched Juniper's shoulder playfully. "Watch what you say, or I'll lock you out of my cellars for good!"

Cedar shook his head, trying to hide a smile. "Juniper, you should slow down. You'll be drunk before the fest starts. Come now, let's see if Abbot Cecil has anything else for us to do."

The badgers passed through Great Hall while looking for the Abbot, and sure enough they ran into some more friends. It was Sandra and her older brother, Brune. Both were sturdy looking hares. Brune was the Redwall champion, in fact.

It happened some seasons back. A small band of rats got into the Abbey during a summer feast. The gates to the Abbey were open, and the rats just charged in. They pillaged the place and laid waist to any of the poor unarmed Woodlanders that got in their way. Of course, the badger twins, Sandra, and Jorin were just dibbuns then and Brune was an adolescent, so they couldn't help the older hare with anything.

During the pillage, the rats stole Martin's sword. Brune was the one who hunted down the rats to get it back. He slew the foul vermin and returned the sword of Martin back to the Abbey. Thus, Abbot Cecil made Bruno champion of Redwall, and permitted him to carry the sword of Martin.

"Why tie my ears in a knot," Sandra said. "It's the badgers! How've you both been?"

"We're doing great," Cedar said.

"How about yourselves?" Juniper asked.

Brune tugged at one of his ears. "You ask how two hares are doing before a feast? I tell you, we're jolly well suffering! The fest is still a couple hours away, what! What!"

The badger twins laughed, something to which Sandra gave them a mock stern gaze for.

"Food is no joke," Sandra said in a serious voice. "This is something I may have to report to Abbot Cecil for."

Then the friends all broke out in laughter. After getting reacquainted with the two hairs, the badger twins went back to work helping with the feast. The sun was high in the sky when all the preparations were completed, and the results of everybeast's hard work was gorgeous.

Rustic oaken tables lined the courtyard, each one laden with mouth-watering food. The otters had prepared enough hotroot soup to drown a wildcat, while the Moles had fixed their famous deeper 'n ever turnip 'n tater 'n beetroot pie. Other Redwall staples were present, such as candied chestnuts, dried fruits covered in sugary honey, the Abbot's own famous Redwall red currant cake, and a variety of fruity scones and turnovers. That's just to name a few things, of course.

"Hey, Juniper," Jorin said. "Let's have a hotroot scoffing contest. First one to reach for water is a moldy pine cone!"

"You're on!" Juniper declared.

The two friends supped down the delicious shrimp-filled soup, piling empty bowls beside them. Both had burning mouths and watery eyes, but nether seemed close to stopping.

"Jolly good waste of food, what?" Sandra said, elbowing Cedar. "Food is meant to be eaten at a pace where you can both enjoy the flavor and scoff down lots of it!"

Cedar grunted his approval, mouth full of skilly n' duff, which was one of his personal favorites. He dug his big spoon into a huge bowl of the stuff, ready to eat another mouthful.

And so the feasting continued on in friendship and maryment, the glory and wonder of Redwall at it's prime this beautiful midsummer day. And so it would always be, so thought Cedar.


	5. Chapter 5

The battered royal cart was pulled on, echoing a soft wooden clanking noise throughout the dusk sky. Lord Culliver was simply being lulled by the sounds as he smoked a cherrywood pipe.

The cart came to a gentle stop. Jazben took a deep breath from where he lay on the rug, unsettling the lord's peace. "We're here."

"What was that?" Culliver said, annoyed at all the interruptions.

Jazben simply held up three claws, putting each one down as a minute passed. Sure enough, right when he put the last claw down, the cart halted and there was a knock at the door, followed by that gruff but proper voice. "My Lord, t'is I, Falhon."

Lord Culliver smiled, guessing his seer's vision must be within paw's reach. "You may enter."

The door swung open, and the huge ferret general knelt down. "My Lord Culliver, we have spotted a great castle of red stone on the horizon. I have ordered the army to a halt until you give orders."

"Excellent news, General Falhon," Culliver said. Then, with great ease he slunk past his general and climbed atop the royal cart. There, on the horizon was a red castle, the dusk light making it seem stained a deeper color than it actually was. "Like the blood of my enemies," Culliver whispered to himself.

A few heads in the hord turned to their leader. Some with hopeful expressions, and some just awaiting orders.

Lord Culliver gave them a toothy grin. "Make camp in the woods. Post guards and take turns resting. Nobeast goes near the red stoned castle."

The troops got to it immediately, hustling to set up camp. All were eager for a well needed rest. Unavoidable squabbles occurred as the hoard beast fought over who would take first watch.

Culliver jumped down from the royal cart, landing gracefully on his paws.

"Shall I scout?" Jazben said from behind Culliver.

The stoat didn't turn around to face the fox as he said solemnly, "yes, my dear seer. Search the castle of red stone. You know the information I want."

"As you wish my lord." Jazben bowed his head. "I already foresaw that the inhabitants are peaceful creatures, good slave material. Though I feel in my whiskers that a few warrior's hearts lie within the red walls." With that, Jazben slunk away into the shadows.

Lord Culliver looked up at the darkening sky. He reached in his pocket to caress the blood stained rook. "Soon, father," he said softly. "Soon."

* * *

With slackened belts and full bellies, the feast at Redwall had slowed to a snail's pace. Large quantities of food still lay uneaten, sure to be stored away and snacked on in the next few days.

Most inhabitants of the great stone building could be seen lounged in chairs and sprawled on the soft grass. Even the Skipper, Rex, could be seen snoozing with his paw still clutching a mug of ale.

Cedar stretched and yawned luxuriously, resting his back against an old apple tree as he fell into a slumber. His brother snored loudly by the Redwall pond some ways off. The drunken badger went to the pond to clear his foggy head, but the cool summer night lulled him to sleep.

In his mind, Juniper felt as if the peace and happiness of Redwall had slowed the earth to a standstill. He felt like his warm dream could last forever. Then an evil gust ripped through his mind like a shard of ice.

Juniper's nose twitched as a dark smell filled his nostrils. His sixth badger sense told him to open his eyes. And there he saw it. A figure wrapped in old robes lurking in the shadows. Unsettling yellow eyes flashed from beneath its hood, then it was gone.

Now that the feeling of being watched was gone, Juniper decided it was safe to sit up and look around. No traces of the shadowy creature could be found. He decided to tell his brother and Abbot Cecil about this immediately.

However, as the badger got up, he felt his hackles rise as a warning of danger. Before he got a chance to turn around, he felt a stinging pain in his neck. Juniper fell face-down into the ground, asleep again.

Jazben chuckled quietly as he snuck up to the badger to remove the sleeping dart from his neck. Ready to make a report to his lord, Jazben slunk off into the night.


End file.
